Before him passed, in mental review, the strenuous days of his boyhood, awakening youth, and early manhood. The memory of his mother arose before him, inexpressibly sweet and tender. He thought lovingly of his father, strong in the religious faith of which he had often made a jest. His gentle Annie seemed so near that he could almost reach her. But closer to him than any other seemed the presence of his brother Joseph. What a promising lad he was, and with what joy had the whole family striven to bestow upon him the educational advantages to which none of the others had dared to aspire! Then passed before him, like scenes in a panorama, the awful pecuniary straits that followed, when the beloved brother fell under the ban of the law. Then came in review his unexpected meeting with that brother in the wilderness. “Forgive my pride, brutality, and selfishness, O Lord! and by all that’s holy, I’ll make it right with Joe!” And who shall say that this unique appeal to the great Source of Life was less acceptable to the Infinite than the studied petitions of gowned prelates? whose often conflicting appeals to Jehovah, if answered literally, would plunge the world into confusion and chaos under the diverse demands of the children of men. His prayer ended, the chilled and worried wanderer returned to his bed and readdressed himself to sleep, this time with such success that when he awoke the sun was riding high in the heavens, and he heard the familiar voice of a train-master, whom he had left in his rear by taking the Green River cut-off, and who had now overtaken him. “Hello, Captain!” exclaimed the new arrival, striking the wall of the sleeper’s tent with the butt of his heavy ox-whip. “What’s all this I’ve been hearing? Didn’t you get back any of your stampeded cattle?” “Nary a hoof,” replied the Captain. “I tell you we’re in a mighty bad fix, Harlan.” “How are you going to get out?” “Don’t know yet. It’s a ground-hog case, though, I’m bound to make it somehow. Got any cattle to sell?” “Possibly. Might spare two yoke and an odd steer. Got any money?” “A few dollars. But I don’t want to get into Oregon dead broke. Can’t you trust a fellow till we reach the settlements?” “I could if we weren’t running short o’ grub. This journey has cost like the dickens from the start; and it won’t get any cheaper on the home stretch. Every fellow you strike wants money. It wasn’t so in the States.” “We can swap accommodations if we like, Harlan. I have several bags of jerked buffalo meat.” His voice faltered, as he remembered that this meat had been prepared by the order of his vanished wife. “We laid in a lot of flour and other stuff at our last Utah trading-post; so we’re not short.” An old-fashioned game of barter and dicker was soon concluded; and Captain Ranger set his men to work, rearranging the wagons and making ready to move on. XXIX _IN THE LAND OF DROUTH_